


Terms of Breaking

by PA_Cage



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bad Eating Habits, Childhood Trauma, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Dom/sub, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, I suck at tagging but I'll add more as I think of them, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Neglect, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Out of Character, Pervert Nanjiroh, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Ryoma has no idea what he's getting into, Ryoma is twelve when this starts, Self Harm, Self-Destruction, Sexual Trauma, Slight incest vibes, Tags Contain Spoilers, Yukimura is a suave manipulative POS, and proud of it, final pairings are undecided, self hate, sensual pair, very dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24842317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PA_Cage/pseuds/PA_Cage
Summary: "'It would take far too long to break someone new as beautifully as I've broken you.' Ryoma couldn't help but find that reassuring." Not everyone is what they show the world. Sometimes the strongest people are crumbling. Sometimes the kindest people want nothing more than to destroy you. And sometimes even the irredeemable can be saved.orA spider spins his web strand by strand. Most flies flitter and struggle, but some accept what is and embrace their fate.
Relationships: Echizen Ryouma/Yukimura Seiichi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Canon changes to note:** This takes place after Seigaku wins nationals, but Ryoma does not go back to America and U-17 does not and probably will not happen. This entire story is a partial AU; character backgrounds and personalities as well as some canon events have been changed to suit my needs. This most notably affects Ryoma, but will apply at varying levels to the other characters as well. Most changes will be self evident throughout the story, but any big changes that aren't expounded on will get a brief mention here at the start of the applicable chapter.
> 
> **A/N:** I posted a different version of this a few years ago. I never got very far though, and a couple of weeks ago I got new inspiration and decided to rewrite this story. So, I'm back with a vengeance! I can't promise a consistent update schedule, but this is just the prologue - hence why it's so short - and I'm already nearly done with chapter one. I'll post that probably tomorrow or the next day, then I'm aiming to update every two weeks after that.
> 
> Enjoy!

"I'm getting married next spring. Right after graduation."

The confession left a ball of lead in Ryoma's stomach and he felt the world falling away. He stared listlessly at the back of Seiichi's head and wondered aloud the question he'd always been afraid to ask. "Did you ever love me?" Half of him knew the answer already. The other half held onto a hope so painful he might as well have been holding molten lava in his chest instead. He was resting against the smooth, cold pillows of his bed, naked body curled inwards to face the man who held his heart and soul in an iron grip. He wanted so badly to reach for the man before him for some tiny shadow of comfort but he knew that rejection would come more quickly even than the one he was about to receive.

Seiichi turned to Ryoma in surprise, his porcelain smile melting to show the spikes of ice behind it. "Did I ever love you?" he repeated breathlessly, the excitement of the cruelty he was about to inflict clearly arousing him. Ryoma noticed it with half an eye and released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He knew the answer before it left his lover's mouth. "Have you ever given me a reason to?" Yukimura answered a question with a question, shifting on the bed to rest his weight on a wrist and giving himself the leverage to lean over Ryoma.

Ryoma's breathing sped up unnoticeably, his heart beat rushing to his palms and ears as if trying to escape. His amber eyes glossed over, the shiny look in them very obviously from tears. He'd expected that, of course... but nothing could have prepared him for hearing it out loud. "But I gave you everything," he whispered hopelessly. He pulled smooth legs into his chest and wrapped icy arms around them, shoulders slumping as he hunched inwards. It was only when he began to turn his face away from Seiichi's eager, hungry eyes that a warm hand corded through his hair and pulled; forcing him out of his defensive position and making him meet the other's gaze.

"Oh Ryoma," he sighed in a put upon way. He _tsked._ "When have you ever been good enough?" He pressed a kiss to Ryoma's forehead, mocking the small comfort Ryoma took from it and shaking his confidence in what he knew to be the truth. That pathetic little kiss was all he needed to keep going, to hold onto his hope that Yukimura might love him someday; and Yukimura knew that. "It's just not in you."

The shards of glass in his chest stabbed from every direction and all he could think was, _Even if I'll never be good enough, can't I keep trying? Or is it like a murderer trying to make peace with his victims - impossible and pointless?_ The warm dampness on his cheeks spoke his thoughts for him and he knew Seiichi saw through him like air. "But- Please," he begged. "Won't you let me try? Can't I make you happy?" His voice broke embarrassingly as he spoke and he reached a hand up to rub roughly at his eyes. Long, graceful fingers wrapped chastisingly around his wrist and pulled, prompting him to redirect his attention to the man he would spend the rest of his life trying to satisfy.

"You're mine," was Seiichi's simple answer, and it spoke truly enough. Only on the first of never would Ryoma leave his lover willingly. "You'll continue to be mine come spring, and for every year after that. It would take far too long to break someone new as beautifully as I've broken you." The smirk that curled his lips at that would have been chilling to anyone else, but Ryoma was too relieved at the confirmation that the man's upcoming marriage wouldn't change things to find it anything but reassuring.

Ryoma didn't protest as Yukimura pushed him towards the bed and straddled him heavily, sharp knees leaving new bruises on his ribs. He didn't protest when sharp teeth clasped delicate flesh in their grasp and masticated until their owner tasted poignant copper and moaned in delight. He didn't protest when warm fingers slipped inside of him abruptly, or something much larger and less forgiving. He didn't even protest when, after they were done, Seiichi doused his after-sex cigarette on his chest next to a myriad of other raised little moons and suns. He welcomed it all with the fervor of a drowning man desperate for air, for any tiny gasp he can get. _This_ was Seiichi's love. And no matter how twisted it became Ryoma was hopelessly addicted to him.

No, his protests only came hours later when Seiichi finally pulled away from the quiet, surreal tone that had overtaken the bed. "Don't go," Ryoma begged in a whisper, too weak to put up the fight he'd never really thought he deserved in the first place. He'd give anything to spend a few minutes in the older man's arms. Yukimura only chuckled as he redressed, slender shoulders shaking in mirth. He didn't even look back as he closed the door.

Ryoma was left collapsed lifelessly in bed, empty stare focused on the ceiling. As memories he'd do anything to forget and feelings he'd do anything to numb overwhelmed him he finally gave in - he crouched low to the ground, shimmying partially under his bed to grab a box that not even Seiichi knew about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Expect actual chapters to be at least three times this long. This is a glimpse into their future but the first... oh, probably five chapters? Maybe more? Will cover how they first meet after nationals and how they get to this point. I also want to reiterate that final pairings for both boys are open to suggestions - including that they stay together - as well as that this is ultimately going to be a very dark and graphic story.
> 
> Oh! And the summary is very tentative. Any feedback on how to make it or my story better is much appreciated! Thanks so much for reading! See ya soon!
> 
> **P.A. Cage**


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryoma and Seiichi's first meeting after nationals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Canon changes to note:** Nanjiroh is a very different man in this story and his relationship with and expectations for Ryoma are very different too.
> 
> **Words you may not recognize:** _Senpai-tachi_ is used when referring to more than one senpai.
> 
> _Senpai_ means upperclassman, but it has the additional connotation of mentor.
> 
> _Oyagi_ is an incredibly informal way of saying "father" or "old man".
> 
> **A/N:** Okay, I planned on waiting another day and I'm going to _try_ to wait to publish on FF, but I'm on such a writing kick and I just couldn't wait to post something a little longer and more fleshed out. I'm halfway afraid this whole chapter is crap, but I personally love it and I feel like I'm on a roll. Should I include a glossary at the end of each chapter with the complete list of Japanese terminology used, or is mentioning it once at the beginning of the chapter it first appears in enough? I'd love some opinions please!
> 
> Enjoy the story!

_Three years earlier:_

It all started with a chance meeting at the street courts the October after nationals. Ryoma never expected to run into the famed Child of God - the opponent who'd shared his apogee with him, _created it_ even - so far from his home turf. But there he was, adjusting the strings of his tennis racket with his legs crossed like a king upon his throne. He was nothing like the Monkey King with his stifling egotism; Yukimura looked feminine but he emanated dominance from all the way across the courts. You could tell that he wasn't putting on airs - he was really just that confident. Ryoma recognized him almost as quickly as he realized the sounds of a match two courts over.

He wasn't stupid either. Ryoma knew that if one of the Demons of Rikkai was all the way out here, at a no-name tennis court that was hardly even maintained, he was looking to play a game. It was not secret that Ryoma and Momo-senpai were the only ones from the circuit who frequented the place - and no offense to Momo-senpai, but he wouldn't exactly be a challenge for the older boy. That could only mean one thing.

Yukimura was here for _him_. He felt a thrill shoot through him.

Ryoma was never one to back down from a challenge though; his upbringing simply wouldn't allow it. It didn't hurt that that fateful match at nationals had been the most liberating match he'd ever played; and quite possibly the only one he'd ever truly enjoyed. Especially after being forced into hundreds of more matches trying to reach that same limitless state of bliss that empowered him to overcome every limit again... with every match it seemed further away. Maybe he could finally reawaken that spark and finally get oyaji to let up.

And just like that Ryoma _knew_ he had to play him.

"Yo," he called, tipping his head to the older player as he walked up to him, hand clenching his bag a fraction tighter in anticipation. He could barely stop from vibrating excitedly, forcing it all into the ball of emotion he kept stored deep inside himself. He didn't bother holding back the smirk threatening to overtake his whole face though. If this match went well he could say goodbye to all those late night training sessions with that stupid old man.

"Boy-a," Yukimura greeting in feigned surprise, eyes sparkling with hidden emotion as a gentle grin tilted his lips. "I hoped I might see you here."

"You were looking for me?" Ryoma's pulse sped up, humming to the ends of his arms and legs with the hopeful excitement. Few people worth his respect ever wanted to play him outside of tournaments. He firmly straightened his face, trying to gain control of his body again. He'd already known, logically, that that's probably what the other boy was here for; but to know that a player he respected so much had sought him out in his free time and gone so far out of his way to do so sent a spike of pleasure shooting through Ryoma's veins like heroin. He could never quite believe he'd actually come so far for a man like this to challenge him so readily. _A match, ask for a match!_ he reminded himself. "Want to play?" He couldn't quite keep the desire out of his voice.

He didn't know this, but the light in his eyes was dancing and glimmering in the bright sun.

The enigmatic smile curling the boy's lips grew, bordering a smirk, before he stood. "Nothing would delight me more, Echizen-kun." The lean muscles of his forearm flexed as he swung the racket gently through the air, mimicking a return. He held an arm out towards the court in a gentlemanly gesture, head inclining briefly. "Shall we?"

Ryoma's heart swelled in his chest and his lips turned up in the first of many genuine smiles the older boy would experience - just slightly though. He nodded and turned.

Four and a half hours later, Ryoma collapsed against a bench. His muscles burned and trembled with every step he took and he could have been swimming for all the sweat soaking his clothes. His legs felt like they were about to crumble and he knew without a doubt that even the Tylenol he'd swallowed immediately after the match wasn't going to make a difference. What he really needed to do was stretch, to keep his muscles from freezing up; but right now just breathing was giving him difficulties. Even oyaji didn't usually push him that hard, if only because the man was already aware of his incompetence. The match had been more thrilling than even his semi-regular matches with Tezuka-buchou though - and worth every sore muscle he had.

Despite himself, he was still crestfallen.

After a long, grueling match Yukimura finally claimed his victory at 7-5. Ryoma had once again reached the Pinnacle of Perfection but by that point it was far too late in the game. There'd been one game left; one game to reclaim his title as winner. But defeat left a bitter taste in Yukimura's mouth and he was clearly expecting a more difficult match than he'd received for he'd activated the Pinnacle only three games in and the rest of the match was Ryoma running around trying to keep up. No matter how good Ryoma was - or supposedly was - he knew Yukimura wouldn't accept another defeat from him. He should've expected it from the beginning and planned his own strategy better. Yukimura started strong and only got stronger with every swing. Ryoma started well, crashed, and then barely pulled himself back together to give a decent match. He should've expected as much, with the slump he'd been in.

This only fueled the perpetual doubt that started circling through Ryoma's mind after their first match all those months ago. Oyagi told him the win was a mistake the first time he lost another match, and just like he'd said it _was_ a fluke. Even using the skills of his fellow players he still hadn't been good enough to beat Yukimura. All those extra hours practicing... all the blood and sweat and tears. It all lead him right back to where he started; a loser. He needed to try harder, train longer, do better than before. _Be more_. Just when it seemed like his efforts were starting to pay off they were proven futile once again.

His old man would be so gratified...

"What are you thinking about so hard?" Yukimura startled him out of his thoughts with a light shake of his shoulder. The question must have shown on his face because Yukimura explained, "I've been trying to get your attention for the last three minutes."

"Sorry," Ryoma grunted, embarrassed. He knew he got lost in his head too easily. Everyone under the sun said so.

Yukimura paused for a moment, an indistinguishable emotion clouding his eyes. "That was a good match, Echizen." Ryoma thought he was being generous, but warmth spread through him at the praise nonetheless. "I didn't expect you to be in such bad shape though," Yukimura continued chastisingly. Just as quickly as the warmth came, a bucket of cold water seemed to snuff it out. Ryoma felt his neck heating up with humiliation. "You need to take better care of yourself. Do your stretches and I'll buy you a drink?" It came out as more of an order but it spurred Ryoma into action - anything to lessen the mortification of another lost match. Yukimura tossed him the towel from around his shoulders, taking a long swig from his water bottle, before he settled in the grass nearby for his own cool down.

Ryoma knew in truth that neither of them was out of shape; Yukimura just hadn't realized, with his limited exposure to Ryoma, how little skill Ryoma _actually_ had. He put in probably twice as many hours of practice over the course of three times as many years to even come close to matching the naturally talented like Fuji-senpai, Tezuka-buchou, and Yukimura himself. He felt disheartened to realize, once again, just how much further he had to go. He was sweaty, tired, and out of breath and even with the extreme exertion of the Pinnacle of Perfection Yukimura was fairing _much_ better than him. _And Yukimura is sick, too_ , came the self-depreciating thought. _Yet his stamina is still better than mine. I had to fight so hard for every point but his came effortlessly._ His father would never let him hear the end of this. Once you won, you weren't ever supposed to go back. Was he actually getting weaker now?

Ryoma felt panic starting to overtake his mind again and forced himself to pour all of his attention into the stretches. He took longer than necessary, but it was almost meditative and it helped him push the flood of thoughts away. Those could wait. Finally, he looked over to Yukimura, head tilting consideringly like a curious cat. He wasn't used to after game chit chat with anyone other than his own team, but the other boy had already offered him a drink and he'd never turn down a chance for free ponta. "Thanks," he grunted, not quite sure if he was thanking him for the match, Yukimura's encouragement, or the offered drink. All he really wanted to do now was train and if they made this quick he could get in another run before heading home for more training with the old man.

Plus, from what he'd heard, Yukimura was the sore winner type. Then again, Momo-senpai didn't have anything good to say about any of the Rikkai bunch and Sanada had turned out to be an honorable guy.

Yukimura was good at reading people though; of course he was. Reading people was a big part of his tennis and a favorite pastime to boot. Reading, strategizing, controlling. Ryoma wasn't the first resistance he met, but he was certainly the most interesting challenge the older boy had had in quite awhile. He couldn't quite get a handle on everything going through the freshman's mind, but at this point it was effortless to see how torn up he was over the match. It leaked into the tense lines of his shoulders; the stiffness in his face and the imperceptible fluttering of his hands. The challenge here was figuring out _why._ And Yukimura did _so_ love a challenge.

Ryoma wouldn't know this until it was much too late, of course.

Yukimura held out a hand to the small boy, intent on helping him up, and inquired, "How about that drink now?" The smile on his face was double edged.

Ryoma looked at the proffered hand in front of him, considering his options for the briefest of seconds, but he could physically feel more of his energy draining. He didn't want any fights. He didn't want any mind games. And Yukimura gave off more Fuji-senpai vibes than Fuji-senpai himself. Unless he let himself be swept along in the wave of the older boy's personality there _would_ be games and fights and manipulation until he got what he wanted. A drink and a awkward, wasted minutes seemed a small price to pay. He sighed. "Thanks Yukimura, san," he acquiesced, hand hesitantly grasping the older boy's as he stood.

Yukimura let loose a stunning smile, hair blowing softly in the wind. Ryoma inexplicably felt himself blushing, stomach fluttering oddly. "Call me senpai." It wasn't a request.

Knowing the older boy was exactly like his father and the team sadist - which is to say, they all presented a choice but _really_ if you chose anything other than The Right Answer there would be Consequences - Ryoma didn't see much choice. He might've been raised in a traditionally Japanese household but he'd still grown up in America and he was uncomfortable addressing so many people with such a weighty title. The senpai-tachi were different, but only because they'd truly earned that title. It didn't seem worth the argument though and he doubted he'd run into the charismatic teen often enough for it to matter in the long run. "Thanks... senpai." It even felt uncomfortable to say, and he hoped the oddity of the word didn't come across in his tone.

"Think nothing of it," Yukimura reassured amicably. They'd reached the vending machines by now and after feeding it some change he stepped aside to let Ryoma choose his drink. He eyed the ponta longingly but knew he still had a long day ahead of him and he was already exhausted... better go with an energy drink. He pressed the button, bending down to grab it before quickly stepping aside to let his... _senpai..._ make his own selection.

"You really did play a great game Echizen-kun," Yukimura reiterated as they sat on a nearby bench. He sat less than three inches away from Ryoma, so close he could feel the other boy's warmth radiating off of him. Irrational as it was, he wondered if Yukimura could feel the shame radiating off of him in turn. He tugged his cap lower, hoping to hide his expression. "It's not often I get to experience such an exhilarating challenge." Ryoma wondered how the other boy could say that with such a straight face.

" _Not good enough_ yet," he concluded mockingly to himself, not meaning to direct the comment towards the other boy but being overheard due to proximity nonetheless.

"You still need to improve," Yukimura agreed, startling Ryoma out of his brooding. His words were like a fist to the gut, but they validated all his thoughts too. When Ryoma didn't turn to face him Yukimura shifted his own body, taking the other's chin in his hand and tilting his face towards him. Ryoma was shocked enough by the touch that he didn't resist, meeting the other's serious blue eyes head on. "But you did quite well. Few of our classmates have ever presented a challenge for me. You gave me a fight."

Despite his doubts he found it hard to resist the sincerity in his senpai's voice. Warmth flooded his cheeks and he was caught in a cobra's gaze; unable to look away. His soul felt laid bare for the briefest moment, before Yukimura took pity and let him go. "Everyone I play is either too weak or dwarfs me with their power," Ryoma admitted uneasily. He didn't talk about these things often. "It's so hard to figure out where I fall sometimes."

"Understandable," Yukimura nodded in agreement. "But with enough training and hard work you can overcome any opponent. Maybe someday you'll even best me again," he finished cheerfully. Ryoma felt like he was getting whiplash from the alternating warm and cold feelings Yukimura's words inspired in him. He only wished the other knew how hard he did work. He wasn't a natural genius, after all. He barely had time to sleep anymore and he was losing sight of how to improve himself - starting to doubt if he even _could_ improve anymore.

"Maybe," he uttered tonelessly, eyes glazing slightly as he remembered match after match where he'd been too helpless to turn the tides.

"You know Echizen-kun," the older boy said casually. "As your senpai now it's my duty to help you improve too. I'd be happy to meet with you occasionally to play a match and train together. I could use a break from Genichirou's melancholy every once in awhile." It took Ryoma a moment to process the unfamiliar word, but when he did he nearly choked. The vice captain was so stern and disciplined; Ryoma truly couldn't imagine him moping around.

"A-Aa," he agreed after a too-long pause. "I'd appreciate your help senpai." _Though I'm probably just wasting your time._

"That's settled then!" The captain clapped his hands together excitedly. "No better time to start than now, yes? How many suicide runs can you do? You'll need to make it to each point in time for a return."

As tired as he was Ryoma felt a flash of pleasure at the other boy's unsolicited help. It seemed like everyone involved in his training had always had an ulterior motive; even his team only initially helped him to get closer to the national title. Yukimura was helping him simply because he needed it. He found that he didn't even mind the burning in his lungs and legs two hours later when they stopped, and was only moderately disappointed with himself that he'd missed half of the returns. When Yukimura-senpai casually ruffled his hair and told him, "Good job," he found that he couldn't stop smiling if he tried.

"Thank you for your help today Yukimura-senpai," Ryoma beamed sincerely; a rare sight for a rare experience. He was exhausted and he still had training with his father, but even if he got nothing out of it physically the captain's belief in him lit a fire in him the likes of which he hadn't felt in months.

"I'm happy to help, boy-a," Yukimura replied kindly as he packed up his bag. "I'll meet you here next week?" Another not-question, but Ryoma didn't mind this time.

"I'll be here," he swore. They bid goodbye and Ryoma turned towards home, doing his best to focus on that little flame rather than the impending nightmare of dealing with his father.

**XXxXX**

Ryoma took his time getting home, knowing that once he was there he'd need to go even harder than earlier. He couldn't blame the old man, since nothing he did ever seemed to improve his tennis - and to produce a true tennis prodigy was all the man had ever desired from him. But every muscle in his body ached and all he wanted was to curl up in bed with his cat and pass out. He scarcely felt like he had the energy to walk home, let alone complete the hours-long training session that awaited him.

He eased the gate open quietly, hoping that he could sneak upstairs and deal with oyaji's ire over missed training tomorrow. No such luck though - the moment it was closed he felt strong arms wrapping around him, nearly overlapping themselves on the much smaller frame. His father hung off of him in a hug that nearly had him on his knees as he greeted his son. "Ryoma~," his childish father called excitedly. "You were gone so late today. I wondered if you found a cute girl to take home!" The words may have been joking but he heard the strict undercurrent to his father's voice. Beneath the immature displays was a heart of steel.

"Sorry oyagi," Ryoma mumbled, struggling to support the weight of both his father and his tennis bag. "I found a strong opponent on the courts. We played for hours." Half truths; his dad could detect outright lies from a mile away. Ryoma thought he must have some kind of tell the other man saw through seeing as no one but buchou and Fuji-senpai ever seemed to see through his lies.

Nanjiroh finally let go and eased back, face serious. "Did you beat him?"

Ryoma's shoulders hunched defensively, already anticipating the reaction he'd get from his answer and searching for the right words to say to ease the blow. "No," he admitted tensely. "I- I reached the Pinnacle again, though!" _Wrong thing to_ say, he realized with dread when his father's face turned to stone.

"You can reach the Pinnacle against some no-name court brat but not against your own old man?" he demanded, tone harsh. Nanjiroh must have seen something in Ryoma's expression because his eyes narrowed and he took a step closer. "Who were you playing?" He was so close that Ryoma could feel his breath against his cheek.

"Yukimura." The admission left his lips like a secret. It felt like sharing the details of their time earlier would suck all the joy out of it. There were only wins and losses with Echizen Nanjiroh and even the admission that he'd finally accomplished what his father had been pushing him towards all these months didn't feel like enough to make up for the final score. He'd never been forbidden to play the older boy again but he still felt like he'd committed a cardinal sin. "I'm sorry oyaji." His tone was almost pleading.

And just like that - a flip was switched. Nanjiroh was jovial again, though if you looked closely at his eyes you could still see the coldness there. "Since you were so late to training I think it's only fair we add an extra two hours on~!" the man said playfully. Ryoma tensed, gripping the strap to his bag tightly enough that he could feel his nails bending. Their regular training was between four and five hours; it was already almost ten and he hadn't eaten since lunch. He felt like he could collapse.

That would only make training tomorrow all the harder though; he knew from experience. He gave a jerky nod in response, not trusting his mouth.

"Oh! And to make things more interesting," Nanjiroh said deviously, "If you can't keep up tonight, you'll wear a skirt for practice tomorrow!" The excitement in his voice was so palpable Ryoma felt the need to scrub his skin raw. He shuddered but gave a sharp nod of agreement - this was another not-choice after all. "You never do show off those legs properly." Nanjiroh shook his head sadly, starting for the backyard. Ryoma followed obediently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Ryoma and Seiichi's history starts off slow, but it will pick up soon - I promise! I wanted to address the phrase, " _Not good enough yet._ " Otherwise known as, " _Mada mada dane._ " I try not to use a lot of Japanese in my writing beyond titles and honorifics that wouldn't have the same meaning if translated. But this is his catchphrase - though keep in mind I have a different take on why he says it - and I'm unsure of if I should use the English version or not. Please let me know what you think! I'd appreciate some feedback if it seemed too boring or if it didn't flow smoothly; things like that. Again, it's unbeta'd so I'd appreciate if you could point out any spelling or grammar mistakes! I'm starting the next chapter now and expect to have it done by tomorrow, but I'll likely wait until next week or the week after to post it... assuming I can actually wait, of course. But I'd really like to have a few chapters in reserve in case I hit any road bumps. Thanks for reading - until next time!
> 
> **P.A. Cage**


End file.
